Behind the dense woods on a distant hillside, a gray figure took in everything before him.
Jian Chen had originally been worried and quietly followed, only to witness that exact scene of Han Feng killing someone with a flying sword.
He was struck as if by lightning, freezing in place.
A flying sword?
That was not a realm ordinary martial arts could ever reach.
Could it be... an immortal cultivator!
Deep within Jian Chen's mind, a memory sealed away for many years was abruptly ripped open.
That was several decades ago, when his master—the recognized myth of the previous generation's Jingzhou martial arts world—died a sudden and violent death shortly after returning from a trip out.
Severed head and body.
When the three fellow apprentices inspected the corpse, they discovered that on their master's neck, there was only a smooth, flat cut, and aside from that, not the slightest trace of any other injury.
That wound seemed not to have been inflicted by blades or swords, but instantly severed by some kind of formless, sharp weapon.
With their master's cultivation at the time, who in the world could kill him so completely that he didn't even have time to react within a single move?
From that moment on, the three of them truly understood that there were people beyond people, and heavens beyond the heavens.
This was also why, even though the martial arts of the three of them reached the pinnacle later on, they never advocated for the Seven Profound Sect to expand its sphere of influence.
They always maintained a sense of awe and low profile.
As it turned out, their master back then had died at the hands of an immortal cultivator!
Jian Chen looked at that young figure standing with hands clasped behind his back in the distance, his heart full of mixed emotions, shock, horror, and a trace of realization.
He did not step forward to greet him again.
Mortals and immortals belonged fundamentally to two different worlds.
He quietly turned around, his figure leaping a few times, and vanished into the sea of forests as if he had never appeared.
Inside the pavilion.
After handling Immortal Master Lin's storage bag and stashing away the spoils, Han Feng looked toward Li Feiyu, who still looked utterly distraught.
Han Li also put away the blood-colored long saber, walked over to Li Feiyu, and patted him on the shoulder, yet he did not know what to say.
The atmosphere among the three of them turned exceedingly bizarre and heavy.
The higher-ups of the Wild Wolf Gang were almost wiped out in one fell swoop, and the remaining stragglers were also thoroughly mopped up by Vice Sect Master Wu and Jian Chen leading their men.
When the three returned to the Seven Profound Sect, what greeted them was a tsunami-like cheer.
Yet Li Feiyu could never manage a smile.
That night.
In Li Feiyu's residence, the three gathered to drink together for the very last time.
"Come on! Drink! We're celebrating today!"
Li Feiyu raised his wine bowl, laughing out loud, and proactively filled Han Feng's and Han Li's cups.
"Brother Feng, Han Li, to be able to make friends with you two brothers in this lifetime of mine, Li Feiyu, it was worth it!"
He chugged the wine bowl after bowl, as if wanting to melt all his worries into this fiery, pungent liquor.
He smiled, talking about how great a name he would carve out in the pugilistic world hereafter.
He spoke of having many children with Zhang Xiuer, and talked about how everyone would still uphold justice together in the future.
Yet as he went on, a trace of imperceptible choking crept into his laughter.
"In the future... in the future, us brothers must still..."
Halfway through his sentence, he simply could not go on, and instead fiercely chugged down another large bowl of wine.
In the end, he smiled with utter delight, yet tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.
He slumped over the table, getting dead drunk, while his mouth still muttered incoherently.
"Good brothers... for a lifetime..."
Han Feng and Han Li watched him in silence, neither of them speaking a word.
Mortals and immortals walk separate paths.
From the very moment they stepped onto the path of immortal cultivation, today was destined to happen.
This was perhaps the final time the three brothers would stand side by side.
After a long while.
Han Li broke the silence.
"Brother Feng, I'll be leaving this area in a few days."
Han Feng looked toward him.
"That toxic affliction is about to flare up, and I need to make a trip to the Mo Family in Lanzhou to find the Warm Sun Treasure Jade." Han Li's plan was very clear.
"Mm." Han Feng nodded.
He immediately spoke up: "Brother Li, on this trip to Lanzhou, be careful in everything."
"A few months from now, deep within the mountains inside Lanzhou's borders, there will be a gathering of rogue cultivators. You can go take a look then; perhaps you can trade for some things you need..."
Hearing this, Han Li nodded solemnly.
He knew almost nothing about the Immortal Cultivation World, so having the chance to experience a genuine gathering of immortal cultivators was naturally something he wished for eagerly.
"Brother Feng," Han Li suddenly proposed, "let's leave together in two days. I want to... return to Han Family Village and take a look."
Han Feng was slightly startled, then nodded.
"Alright."
It was indeed time to go back and take a look.
Having transmigrated here, although he didn't have much emotional attachment to this body's family, he had ultimately assumed the original owner's identity.
Ever since he entered the Seven Profound Sect, the salary silver he received had long been entrusted entirely to people to be sent back home, and he figured the poverty at home must have been completely transformed by now.
Now that he was about to set out on a long journey with an uncertain future, going back for a look would also clear up a strand of mortal karma.
Two days later, early morning.
Han Feng came alone to the residence of Sect Master Wang Juechu.
Seeing Han Feng arrive, Wang Juechu wore a smile on his face, yet beneath that smile was hidden a trace of indescribable complexity and melancholy.
"Master, I have come to take my leave of you." Han Feng bowed respectfully and got straight to the point.
Wang Juechu was not surprised, letting out a long sigh.
"After Martial Uncle Ancestor Sword Dust returned, he already told me everything."
Han Feng understood in his heart; that very day, he had sensed the aura of Martial Uncle Ancestor Sword Dust, and also guessed that the latter had witnessed the scene of him using the flying sword.
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